Traces
by Kitsune Heart
Summary: Artemis does not believe in the PARAnormal or SUPERnatural. Only in science. Yet, when left alone for a few minutes in Police Plaza, Artemis comes across some traces of an old comrade. Traces that can not be explained. One-shot, Halloween-themed.


**Dedicated to Lli, whom I have probably shamelessly ripped off.**

**This story is a simple one-shot, and is no connected to any of my other stories.**

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**Traces**

It was really too easy for Artemis. He'd been able to do this to Holly since day one, though that didn't mean he ever got tired of it. All it took was a few light, rolling steps, heel to toe, and held breath. Then he reached out long, thin fingers and scratched them down the distracted elf's neck.

Holly shrieked, jumping out of her chair. She spun about in the air, landing in a perfect cat stance, ready to lash out with her forward leg or knife hands. To her side, a small book skittered across the floor, stopping as it crashed into the wall.

"Artemis! D'arvit!" Holly took a pillow from the waiting room's couch and tossed it at the smug raven-haired boy who wasn't exactly laughing, though his lack of audible ridicule did little to appease his red-hot headed (both figuratively and literally) friend.

"Captain," he chided, stepping around the room's mostly uncomfortable furniture, "you really should work on your awareness of the surroundings. We have far too many enemies on the loose for you to be distracted by..." Artemis crouched and picked up the book Holly had been reading, flipping it over so he could read the title page. "''Ghost Hunting.'" He seemed to squint at the cover, as if a more concentrated look would reveal that his initial reading had been faulty. However, Artemis's eyesight was perfect. As he went on with the title, he looked up to Holly. "'True Stories of Unexplained Phenomena from the Atlantic Paranormal Society.' Holly...is this..._a ghost story_?"

Holly scowled, taking several steps that were too forceful than were really necessary to reach the young man's side. She yanked the book from his hands, shoved a bookmark in at random, and slammed it closed. "No! This is a serious study of paranormal activity. 'Ghost story' implies that it is..."

"Made up?" Artemis supplied, reaching out to flick the gold tassel on the end of the bookmark. "Do _not_ tell me that you _believe_ in that...that...drivel."

Artemis was doing nothing to improve Holly's temper. She had spent the last four hours waiting while Foaly, Vinyáya, and Commander Kelp had interrogated the boy on everything from the placement of the cameras at Fowl Manor to the size of Butler's boxers (Holly had no _idea_ why that question was on the documents, but the fact that the editing records showed it came from Vinyáya was sort of unsettling), leaving her to amuse herself as she could in the meantime. Eventually, she had brought out her latest book and was in the middle of enjoying a particularly delicious tingle of fear when Artemis had ninja-ed his way in for the kill. So, her little thrill having thus turned into genuine fear, she was not in a mood to be pleasant. "It is _not _drivel. It is a brilliant set of studies, using verifiable _scientific_ measurements to verify what has thus far been considered nothing more than legend and hysteria."

"Ah," Artemis said, placing a light hand on his chest, as if thoroughly wounded by her attack. "I _am_ sorry. Tell me, then: where _did_ they find incontrovertible evidence of 'ghosts' during their 'hunts'?"

Holly wasn't at the end of this book, but she knew the answer. After all, if they had succeeded, then the results would be all over the Mud Man (and, shortly thereafter, fairy) news stations. "Er...well, nothing _incontrovertible_, just highly suggestive of—"

"And there you have it," Artemis broke in. "It is nothing more than a few stray breezes, some ill-fitting plumbing, and _many_ over-active imaginations. Nothing _para_normal or _super_natural about it. Just make-believe."

"Sure," Holly grumbled, holding the book close to her chest, as if her physical closeness to the tome would defend the ideas therein. "Like fairies are make-believe."

Artemis gave a short groan, shaking his head. "No, not like...I have more important things to do while in Haven than debate about this. At the moment, my paramount concern would be finding my home base. I believe there is a hotel room waiting for me?"

"Yes," Holly muttered, sullen. "I'll go get the information from Vinyáya. You wait here." Before her charge could get in another shot, Holly disappeared down the halls.

Artemis sat on the back of one of the short fairy couches inspecting his nails. He really did not need to do any upkeep, having seen the manicurist the day before this little trip, but it did a lot for his image to be seen acting cool and disinterested. He needed to improve his image as much as possible during the calm moments, as he inevitably found himself looking less than dignified whenever he had to go out into a real confrontation. He might find himself sitting here for ten minutes, but it would be worth the wait. He could plot in the meantime.

Almost at the edge of his hearing, Artemis detected a shrill series of notes. They were mostly in tune, but their slight dissonance began to claw into his meditation. The fact that the sound was so soft that he couldn't really detect where the music came from served to further irritate him. He couldn't very well yell to turn off a song that he could not identify. He resolved to ignore the music.

That resolve lasted a short time. The notes made up a single measure, repeated until the claw of dissonance became a powerful drill, causing Artemis to flinch with every repeat. After about two minutes of this, he rose from the couch, stepping out of the waiting room and into the hallway.

It was the "graveyard shift" for the LEP (which meant it was the middle of the day for Artemis), so only one in every five lights in the hall were on. In between, the corridors became nearly black. The lights in the hall did not seem to be particularly good, either, constantly dimming and flickering.

Artemis cupped a hand around his ear, focusing it down one end of the hall. He could barely hear the music. Turning, he tried the other side and found the volume increased. Frowning at having to pursue this annoying bar himself, he began to walk down the corridor.

Artemis had no trouble walking in the darkness. He did it often enough in the Manor. No, it was passing though the harsh lights that began to nudge at his subconscious. At first, he tried to ignore the rise of hairs along the back of his neck. The hyper-sensitivity to the echos of his footfalls. The absolute silence in-between the sounds, which seemed to beg to be filled by more footfalls or breaths.

Barely turning his head, Artemis looked out of his peripheral vision to the hall behind him.

A black form waited in the darkness.

Artemis stopped and spun, bringing his hands up to defend himself, though he was in no way close to copying Holly's perfect stance from earlier. His heart raced and his eyes were wide, searching for his attacker.

Nothing but the long corridor, over 300 feet now between him and the bright waiting room.

A cold wind tickled Artemis's back.

Artemis spun again, looking further down the hall, but there was nothing.

"My...my hair," he muttered, tucking a strand behind his ears. "I must have seen my hair, and it was so close to my eyes that I couldn't make anything out, and...yes." He nodded, swallowing the large lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat. He turned again, making his way back towards the waiting room.

Behind him, the music increased in volume.

Artemis clenched his fists, stopping again to look over his shoulder. It would drive him _mad_, should Holly take much longer. Besides, there was nothing to fear. The only officers that had been allowed to stay in this part of Police Plaza knew he was here, his three fairy guardians deeming them all trustworthy. Though they had _apparently_ failed to double-check their taste in music...

Leaning his head to the side until his neck popped, looking rather like a posturing wrestler, Artemis prepped himself and began to make his way down the corridor. He could finally tell where the music was coming from. A rather heavy, ornate door at the end of the hall was cracked open, the light inside washing out the darkness of the corridor beyond. The Commander's office. Trouble was the source of his woes, it seemed.

Only a few hundred feet more.

Another cool breeze brushed Artemis's back, as if urging him forward.

Clammy sweat began to coat his skin. Forgetting his previous efforts to maintain his cool _façade_, Artemis sprinted down the hall, arms pumping in an uncoordinated fashion. He shot a look over his shoulder, unsure if the black blur he saw behind him was more stray hair...or something more. This moment of inattention led to a further ungainly stumble, stopping just before a fall only because the man grabbed the frame of the Commander's door for support, jetting inside and slamming it closed behind him.

Artemis leaned against the door, panting, trying to collect himself. Nothing. It had been nothing but...an over-active imagination.

If he had been more elven, Artemis's ears would have twitched. That music... His eyes narrowed in thinly controlled anger. _Someone_ had a _sick_ sense of humor. He stormed across the room, stepping behind the desk and slamming his hands on either side of they keyboard, glaring at the screen.

Three _very_ short men stood before a similarly height-challenged crowd, swaying back and forth. Teasing him. _Taunting_ him with their words.

"Weeeeee represent the Lollypop Guild. Weeeeee represent the Lollypop Guild. Weeeeee represent the Lollypop Guild. Weeeeee represent the Lollypop Guild."

"Holly," Artemis growled. There was no one else who would find this _nearly_ so funny. He tapped the touch-screen, trying to close the video. It did not respond. With further grumbles, he took hold of the mouse and tried to click with that. Nothing.

Artemis hoped there was nothing important running on this computer, as he was_ certainly_ not going to let this go on. He punched the power button, holding it in until the computer finally closed down.

It was time to calm himself, before Holly came to see how her little prank had panned out. Artemis began to count up in exponents of seven, breathing deeply though his nose.

Suddenly, his body seemed to be paralyzed. It...couldn't be...

Drifting lazily around him, only a faint whiff managing to make its way into his nose for a telling trigger of his senses, was the harsh aroma of a fungus cigar.

Starting at the door, Artemis heard slow taps. Footsteps. Moving away from the door. Towards him. Around the desk. To the chair behind him. Which groaned, as if a weight had been settled on it.

Artemis focused on the keyboard. He did not look behind him, nor did he look at the computer screen, lest he catch a reflection of...who knew what. He knew what. The cigar stench grew stronger, not just tickling his senses, but smothering them, making him dizzy and blurring his vision. He had to move. To get away. He just needed a signal to break him out of his paralysis and allow him to rush for the door. Something. Anything.

With a soft, almost casual 'click,' the lights went out. Now only a thin line of light came in from under the door, but it was nowhere near enough for comfort.

At a rate of almost a degree a second, the warm room chilled. Soon, Artemis could see his own breath, crystalizing in the air and hovering before his mouth before dissipating into the room. He had his sign, but he could not move. Eyes bored into the back of his head, continuing to pin him down.

He couldn't take it. It felt like that gaze was cutting into his flesh, laying open his skin like an animal to be displayed on the wall as a sign of the hunter's prowess. He needed mercy. He needed...

"Please," Artemis croaked.

There was no response, at first. Artemis could feel the sharp prickle of tears in the corner of his eyes. Tears of fear. He tried again. "Please...what do you want?"

Now the pause felt thoughtful, though certainly no less intimidating.

There was another 'click,' though not from the light. Artemis's eyes flicked slightly to the side to see that the computer's power button was depressed. Slowly, it came out again, now glowing green.

Without any loading screen, the computer was back up. The three figures stared at him a second. Then began to move again.

"Weeeeeeeee represent the Lollypop Guild, The Lollypop Guild, The Lollypop Guild. And in the name of the Lollypop Guuuuuuuuuild...we wish to welcome you to Muchkinland."

That seemed enough for Artemis. He crashed around the side of the desk, making for the door. For a second, he thought it wouldn't open. Then the handle seemed to fly out of his hand, the door rushing towards his face. Artemis stepped out of the way just in time for the edge of the door to brush his hair before slamming into the wall.

With a yelp, he burst out of the room and into the hall, running faster than he had ever ran in his entire life. He had to get away! He had to—

"Artemis!"

He nearly slammed into Holly Short, who was standing next to the waiting room, holding her book and a data tablet displaying a map.

"Holly!" He shouted, elated with her presence. "Got the information? Good! Let's go! Now!" He grabbed her upper arm and began pulling the elf down the hall.

"Woah!" Holly sputtered, trying to hold the larger man back. "Hold on! What's the rush?"

"Tired," Artemis shot out, tugging harder. "I'm just eager to get to sleep. Exhausted."

"You don't look it," Holly said, glancing the entirely energetic human up and down. "Besides, I had to wake you up just to get you to Tara, so there is no_way_ you should be tired already."

"Holly," Artemis said, looking down the hall. Nothing. Or...or... He focused on Holly, trying (and failing) to keep a whimper out of his voice. "Can we just...get out of here? Please?"

"I..." Holly looked down the hall herself, eyebrows raised, then shrugged. "Sure. Come on, my bike is waiting."

"Excellent," Artemis chirruped, again dragging at Holly, making their way out of Police Plaza. He didn't even stop to think that there might be greater terrors to riding pillion behind Holly than could be found in the Commander's office. He would learn soon enough.


End file.
